


Splinter

by jericho



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jericho/pseuds/jericho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deb sent me <a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v116/alexjames/justinbsb.jpg">this picture</a> and I had to write the story behind it. Like, had to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splinter

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2000.

Justin knew that if he were going to play basketball much longer, he was going to have to jerk off. There were twice as many guys as usual - them plus a whole other group of guys born and bred to turn people on - and the testosterone practically floated above them. Cameras snapped, and the audience cheered, and when Brian Littrell sailed by him and did a lay-up to nail yet another basket, Justin knew that he was going to have to start paying attention. 

"Watch your man," AJ joked, punching Justin's arm lightly as he sailed by. And Justin heard the snap of a camera flashing. AJ and Lance had switched teams, probably just to show that they didn't hate the Backstreet Boys. Justin found AJ almost intimidating - his swagger, his lopsided grin, his aura pure red and brimming with sex. In fact, all of the Backstreet Boys kind of intimidated him a little, and he wasn't easily intimidated. 

"Maybe we should switch," Joey said when he passed him. "You can watch Howie. He's short enough." 

"Fuck off," Justin said in a low voice, and they flashed each other a grin. Justin didn't want to watch Howie. He was just getting used to watching Brian. Howie, with his lightning-speed winks and his lean, tanned arms, was definitely not a good way to keep his mind on the game. 

The whistle blew, and they were off again, running down the court, circling around in a strange sort of tap dance as they guarded each other. By the time the game ended, and it was time for more photos, Justin was completely off his game. Not even the idea of doing this for charity could take away the sting of that. 

Howie stood behind him for some of the photos, and rested his hand on Justin's shoulder, and Jesus, he wished he would just stop that. Justin wanted to shove him away, storm off to the change room, do anything other than stand among the throng of beautiful guys who smelled like clean sweat. He'd spent the last week masturbating frantically, trying to think of girls and nothing but girls. He imagined Britney dripping wet and running around in one of her barely-there bikinis. He imagined Cindy Crawford doggie style, and Pamela Lee whispering dirty thoughts in his ear. Whenever his mind drifted to thinking about a guy, he'd stop, and it was starting to take him forever to come. 

He clenched his jaw, well aware that he was almost scowling at the camera, but it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep his head straight. And hearing the laughter around him, and the beams of blinding light from the flashbulbs, were making him irritated and horny. 

The hand on his shoulder patted him, and he heard Howie say "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," Justin said through gritted teeth. _Flash_. 

I'd be a lot better if you'd stop talking to me. _Flash_. 

I'd be a lot better if you took your hand off my fucking shoulder. _Flash_. 

I'd be a lot better if I didn't have this raging hard-on to hide. _Flash_. 

I'd be a lot better if I didn't have this problem at all. 

"That's a wrap," the photographer called, and the thought dangled in Justin's head. 

*** 

It wasn't enough that they had to play basketball with the Backstreet Boys. Now they had to party with them. The gathering was in a trendy restaurant, its usual crowd husked out to accommodate the charity basketball group. Justin stood at the bar next to Chris and watched AJ suck the salt off his hand and then open his throat and down a tequila shooter in one gulp. AJ shuddered a little, then looked at the lime and chucked it back on the bar unsucked. 

He heard a voice to the left of him. "How are you feeling?" Howie asked. 

"I'm fine," Justin snapped. "Jesus." 

He knew he was being a brat, but Howie seemed unfazed. He just smiled and winked and got a drink of his own before he headed off into the crowd. 

"Well, that was pretty," Chris said. 

"He's not pretty," Justin grumbled, taking a big swig of his drink. 

Chris blinked. "I didn't mean Howie himself. I mean your reaction." 

"Oh," Justin said, and he suddenly wanted to crawl behind the bar and cower there in a fetal position. 

Justin saw AJ's hand in front of him, holding a shot glass of clear fluid. "Here," AJ said. "You seem like you need this." 

Justin took it timidly and stared at it. AJ seemed to get impatient and grabbed his hand, sprinkling a little salt on the crook of skin between his thumb and his index finger. Justin licked the salt off obediently and downed the tequila shot. 

"God," he moaned involuntarily, and a shudder rippled from the top of his spine to his ankles. 

AJ handed him a lime wedge. "Suck." 

Despite the fact that it was coming from AJ, just hearing a gravelly man's voice say the word "suck" made him shudder again. He sucked the lime quickly, trying to get all the juice out of it to take away the sting, and threw the withered remains on the bar. 

"One down," AJ said. "Only 15 more to go." 

Before Justin could come out with a "very funny," AJ disappeared into the crowd. 

"Don't drink 15 of them," Chris said. "You wouldn't be pretty after 15 of them." 

"I know that." 

Chris pushed himself into an upright position and raised his glass toward the crowd. "It's not that I don't enjoy these moods of yours, but I'm going to mingle a little." 

Justin stayed by the bar. He wasn't usually a wallflower, but God, he just needed...something. Something to cure the combination of horniness and panic that made his body hum like a live wire. Instead of tequila shots, he had a couple of whiskys, thinking maybe getting a pleasant buzz would help a little. It didn't. 

By the time he worked his way to the restrooms at the back, he wanted to shove everyone out of the way. But he didn't, because golden boys didn't do that. He went in to find Howie leaning against the counter, picking at his thumb. 

"Hey," Howie said without looking up. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I got a splinter." Howie held up his thumb to demonstrate. "I think it's from one of the tables. I can see the end of it sticking out, and I could probably grab it but I don't have any fingernails." 

Justin looked down at his hands before he realized what he was doing. Usually his nails were bitten down to the flesh, but this time they weren't. "Let me see." 

Howie held out his hand and Justin realized the implications of what he'd done. He was going to have to touch that hand. That warm, smooth, strong hand. A guy's hand. He stepped over slowly, just looking at it at first. He could see a little red mark where Howie had been picking at it, and sure enough, a tiny spike of wood poking out from underneath the skin. 

Justin leaned against the counter for balance and tugged Howie's hand toward him, biting his lip in concentration as he tried to grab hold of the tail end. It took him a few tries, and Howie stood there patiently, watching him with detached interest, like he was a piece of abstract art. "How are you doing?" Howie asked. 

Justin took a deep breath. "Fine." 

"Cool." 

Finally he grabbed it and tugged gently, and it came out in one piece. It looked tiny, perched on the end of his thumb, like it wouldn't even have been noticeable if it didn't have a sharp end. 

"Thank you," Howie said. 

"You're welcome." 

Then he realized, with a flash of terror, that he was still holding Howie's hand. It must have been an unconscious thing. A Freudian slip that manifested itself into a physical action. And Howie hadn't even moved to pull it away. He just stood there calmly, like he was waiting for Justin to do whatever it was he had to do. 

Howie shifted his hand so his fingers laced in Justin's, and he tugged like he was trying to get Justin closer. "Come here, kiddo." 

He wasn't sure why Howie called him "kiddo," since Justin was technically an adult and far from anything that might resemble a kid. But for some reason, the little endearment made his heart pound against his breastbone, and he instinctively stepped closer. 

Howie locked him in a kind of awkward hug, until Justin's face was against Howie's neck, and he could smell a great cologne that he wasn't sure the name of, but he thought he might have smelled it on Joey once or twice. It was warm, familiar and at the same time sexy as hell. 

When Justin let his hand drop and edge toward the zipper of Howie's pants, he figured he was having the closest thing he'd ever had to an out of body experience. It was insane. He wasn't even sure why he was doing it. He had no interest in this guy, and this guy had no interest in him, but suddenly, all he wanted to do was get him off. 

As soon as he realized Howie wasn't going to stop him, he started rubbing his palm against Howie's crotch, and he noticed that they were both achingly hard. Howie's eyes closed, and a deep groan came from somewhere in his throat, and Justin realized that the panting he heard was coming from his own body. 

Howie wrapped his arm around Justin's shoulders. "Just relax," he said quietly. 

"I just...I need to...." 

"I know. It's cool." 

Justin dropped to his knees involuntarily, burying his face against Howie's stomach, lifting his shirt and unveiling a set of abs Justin hadn't even known existed on him until now. Howie's fingers trailed through Justin's hair, locked in their own dream-like rhythm, and finally stopped when Howie said, "I think we should lock the door." 

"I'll do it," Justin said, almost tripping over his feet as he ran to the door and gave the little silver knob a half turn. When he came back, Howie hadn't moved, so he dropped to his knees again and resumed his position. 

Justin had only given a couple of blow jobs, but he needed this. He'd needed it all day, and the only thought more exciting than getting Howie off was the idea of Howie getting him off, which Justin knew Howie would do, for no other reason than that Howie was a nice guy who wouldn't leave him stranded like that. There was a loud hum in Justin's ears as he undid the top button and then tugged down the zipper, revealing the heart of all that heat and testosterone. Then he took the whole thing in his mouth, or at least as much of it as he could, and Howie's low groan made him feel like a god. 

He worked it the best he could, pulling every trick out of his bag, urged on by Howie's smooth words of encouragement, and the gentle fingers running through his hair. It didn't take long at all, and when Howie's fingers tightened in warning, Justin thought he might actually be having fun. And when Howie came, Justin opened up his throat and took it all, loving the dark, salty taste on his tongue, and warming his entire body with liquid heat. 

He looked up and saw Howie's eyes a little wider than usual. "Wow," Howie said. "You didn't have to do that." 

Justin smiled a little, in a way he knew was cute beyond belief. "Do what?" 

"Swallow." 

"I don't care," Justin said. "I like you." He knew it was a lame excuse, and he wasn't even sure if it was true, but there was no time to think about it. Howie's hands gripped his arms and pulled him into a standing position, and Howie's lips met his in a clumsy, fleeting kiss. Then Howie's hand drifted past Justin's waist, and just the pressure of Howie's palm was enough to make Justin's insides feel like they were burning. 

"God," Justin groaned helplessly. 

"You've had this all day," Howie said against his neck. "I felt a little sorry for you." Howie snickered a little, but Justin just mumbled "uh huh." 

"Do you want me to take care of it?" 

"Yes! God, yes." 

As Howie's fingers deftly undid Justin's pants, Justin got the feeling that he was in the hands of a master. He was with someone who would take care of him so well that the people in the hallway would probably hear him. The thought of that made him even harder, if that was possible. 

He felt himself being backed against the wall, and his head dropped back and rested against it when he felt Howie's tongue working its way around his belly button, down toward the area that was so aroused that it actually hurt. Then Howie took the whole throbbing, burning thing into his mouth, and Justin thought he was going to die from the feeling. 

Howie licked and sucked in exactly the right places, and it was over way too soon. Too soon to be normal, maybe. If Justin were thinking clearly, he would have tried to hold back, just to enjoy the sensation for a little longer, but he was so desperate for the orgasm that once he started to come, there was no stopping it. His hips jerked forward, and he realized he was babbling, and his eyes squeezed shut to block out the flourescent lights on the ceiling. Finally the static seemed to drain out of his body and Howie was back in a standing position, smiling at him like he'd just found his porn collection. 

"Thank you," Justin said breathlessly, reaching out and patting at Howie's head. 

"No problem," Howie replied. "You got my splinter out." 

Justin laughed a little, trying to find the energy to do up his pants. Finally he fumbled and did them up, tucking his shirt back in. 

"We can do that again sometime," Justin said as they headed to the door. "Next time I see you, maybe." 

Howie laughed a little and turned the lock. "Well, you know, we'll see." 

Going back out into the room, watching Howie disappear into the crowd, Justin realized that he was in a killer mood now. 

  



End file.
